


Last Christmas

by JustAnotherGhostwriter



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Gen, Written before I knew the title of the Christmas special and now I don't know what to change it to, dw secret santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 13:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3210773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherGhostwriter/pseuds/JustAnotherGhostwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last Christmas Rose and the Doctor spent together was a harrowing, dramatic and ultimately heroic adventure. This Christmas – their very first together in Pete’s World – is looking to be the sort of day the Doctor Rose first remembers would scoff at and derisively call ‘domestic’. Rose isn’t going to sit around and let this prediction become a reality.</p>
<p>Written for the Doctor Who Secret Santa 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [braveten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/braveten/gifts).



> Doctor Who Secret Santa gift for the absolutely glorious bow-to-my-tie. They requested “preferably something with some fluff” and “something to do with Christmas”.
> 
> … I tried. I really did. I’m so sorry. I hope this brings you some joy, however, and that there aren’t as many hidden typos as I’m dreading there are. Also, I tried very hard to make it so that every reader could decide for themselves whether Rose and Tentoo have a baby TARDIS growing that simply isn’t ready for use yet, or whether they never got handed a TARDIS coral at all. I can never decide which version of events I like best, so I chickened out of having an opinion like the stellar person I am.
> 
> Beta read by: The ever lovely, wonderful, special and dear companionofatimelord, who swore at me multiple times on top of the absolutely invaluable constructive criticism and made me giggle.

_“Last Christmas I gave you my heart_

_And a day of adventure that blew you away_

_This year, I’m so sorry my dear,_

_Christmas won’t be as special.”_

Rose could pinpoint the exact moment the hard fist of realisation punched away her breath and lazy happiness.

They were all reclining in the vast, plush, comfortable sitting room of the Tyler mansion; Tony on the floor playing with his fire trucks, Jackie and Pete reclining on the sofa with arms over each other and hands entwined, and the Doctor and Rose squashed stubbornly in an awkward, tangled, happy mess on a single armchair. The conversation flowing over the head of the unconcerned five-year-old had started out as Jackie ranting about her upcoming Christmas bash – the one that had the lists and lists of things still to do, the diminished number of staff to do them with and the alarming number of Very Important Guests the party had to impress as much as the previous parties Jackie Tyler (not necessarily _this_ Jackie, mind, but nobody _else_ knew the difference and the reputation still had to be upheld) had thrown.

After she’d fretted and worried and stressed and complained for a good while, the other three began to tease her with ominous reminders of all that _could_ go wrong. That, inevitably, led to stories of Christmas muck-ups and adventures from the past; everything from burnt turkey to accidentally de-pantsing your Great Aunt to plunging a small moon just off the Milky Way into peppermint-scented darkness. The Doctor, not surprisingly, had more exciting Christmas shenanigans to recount than the lot of them, and it wasn’t long before he had the floor, gesturing and grinning wildly as he narrated adventure after adventure.[[MORE]]

Rose quickly became as captivated as the rest of the Tylers, grinning at hilarious narrative after hilarious narrative and laughing in advance of the really funny bits of the stories she already knew. It was easy for her to get pulled into his slightly manic nostalgia, and before long she was half listening to his latest story about an alien that was ‘a cross between Santa’s uglier brother and a Yeti’ whom he’d managed to upset (quite accidentally, of course) and half reminiscing about their first Christmas together. She could still remember how terrified she’d been, convinced that her Doctor had left her for good without any warning whatsoever. There had been an imposter lying in her bed, and as much as she craved to believe he was the Doctor with a new face, human logic and past experience told her she was deluding herself. She was just Rose Tyler, after all – just one simple girl who grew up on an estate and always wanted more than her little human life would ever afford her.

And, rising above the soul-deep loneliness and terror was the rising fear of the coming invasion. The Earth was doomed without the Doctor, and her efforts were all futile. She remembered thinking that being knee-shakingly scared to stand in front of her schoolmates to do an oral was laughable in the face of staring down thousands of big, armed alien beings who held control over a third of the world. Fortunately, her world-saving skills had improved since then, else Torchwood would have failed rather epically when it instated her as one of its lieutenants. And even more fortunately, the Doctor had been there to save her – them all – that time. Another Christmas adventure to add to his list. Another triumph, brought about by wit and skill and slightly insane actions. And all they’d lost was one of his hands. Which, taking into account how the Doctor she was cuddled next to had come about, had turned out not to be much of a loss at all.

It was as she was thinking about all that, precisely between the time the Doctor nearly slapped her in the face with his wild gesturing and the time he elbowed her in the breast, that Rose’s dreamy, relaxed mood was punctured with enough force to leave her feeling a little breathless.

It was no secret that the Doctor loved adventures; loved learning, getting into trouble, discovering, helping, _living_. It was also no secret, due to the gusto of his story telling and the warm fire in his eyes, that he held a special fondness for his Christmas related escapades. But while the everyday pangs of longing for adventure could be soothed in this world by Torchwood, there would be nobody officially on duty on Christmas Day. No guarantee that there would be a crisis that needed the Doctor. No guarantee that there would be any Christmas adventure for the Doctor at all this year. In fact, it was alarmingly probable that nothing more exciting than an old woman’s de-pantsing would happen at all.

Rose stared at the animated, enthusiastic face beside her and felt her heart constrict. This was the Doctor as she’d first met him, the Time Lord had said. And she could not forget how much that Doctor had _hated_ domestic. What if being forced to a slow, gentle, monotonous Christmas was too much for him? What if he hated every second? He’d adapted – sometimes painstakingly – to this world of linear time and grocery shopping and mortgages, but Christmas was… supposed to be magical. And the thought of him looking at their first Christmas together and feeling disappointed or sad or regretful or bored or desperately hoping for better days to come made Rose’s insides constrict

Even as she was catching herself on the chair to avoid being tipped off by his fervent actions, Rose was making the firm resolve that she’d make this Christmas as spectacular as she possibly could. Even if she had to create terror herself to do it.

****

“You want me to _fake_ a _national emergency_?” Pete was using his Incredulous eyebrows on Rose, switching rapidly between parental exasperation and the long-suffering agony of being Torchwood One’s director.

“Not _national._ Just… London-wide. Just big enough to be… you know… a code three.” She paused to consider. “Maybe a four. Five, at most.”

“You want me to _fake a city-wide emergency_ on _Christmas_. In the middle of your mother’s party.”

Rose winced and fiddled with the zipper of her jacket for a moment before steeling her resolve and nodding. Pete rubbed his forehead with a weary sigh, leaning further back into his large office chair that leaned a little to the left after the last time Tony had treated it as his own personal carnival ride.

“Dad…” Rose dropped her professional tone and stance, biting her lip even as her arms curled around her middle. “I wouldn’t ask if I… You heard him,” she tried again, not caring that she sounded desperate. She _was_ slightly desperate. “All those big adventures and magical moments and saving the world with… with a bloomin’ shoestring or whatever. He used to be able to make any time and any place his present. But _right now_ all he has is now and here – this one, single day in London. And I…”

She took a deep breath, knowing her reasoning was making no sense but unwilling to let this one go. “He doesn’t need this; he’ll be just fine with a normal Christmas. He’ll deal with it like he has dealt with learning to be ‘normal and human’. He’ll probably even have fun. But it won’t be the same. I _want_ this for him. I _want_ to give this to him. Please won’t you help?”

Pete stared at her for a long moment, gaze calculating but unreadable. Rose didn’t break his gaze, pouring her conviction into the way her back straightened and her chin rose stubbornly. Finally, Pete nodded.

“All right. I’ll see what I can do. Needless to say this only goes to as many people as it needs to.”

Rose flung herself around the mahogany desk and wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she breathed, giving his forehead a kiss so that the lines of worry faded out for a moment. “I… owe you. So big. So very, very big.”

Pete only smiled and cupped her face. “You’re my daughter, Rose,” he reminded her gently yet firmly. “This is what parents do. And, besides…” His smile turned slightly sad. “I do understand the feeling of wanting to make somebody who’s… surface-happy feel true, soul-deep happiness instead.”

She stilled and backed away a little, searching his face for any signs he didn’t want to talk about it, before hesitantly asking, “This world’s Jackie?”

“No, sweetheart. You. When you first came here. You were happy, after a while, but there was always that something deep and sad in your eyes that nobody could touch. He did, though. And I’m rather invested in keeping you this happy.”

A lump crawled into Rose’s throat and robbed her of any meaningful, heartfelt reply even as her heart seemed to expand with love for this man who had so easily at times and at others so inelegantly become her dad. _This_ was the heart of Christmas, she realised with new emphasis as she hugged him close and smelled the faint remainder of the porridge Tony had apparently chucked at him in a rage that morning. She’d been given more love than she thought ever possible: the dad she’d yearned for for years who accepted and supported her, the mum who had always given everything to protect and love her unashamedly, the little brother who adored her more than she deserved and taught her new things about the simple beauty of life on a daily basis, and the boyfriend who completed her, pushed her, steadied her, led her, followed her… _loved_ her.

_This_ was why she was doing what she was doing – to protect the soul-deep happiness, as Pete had called it, of her world. And she couldn’t apologise for that, no matter how selfish it might be. She would always try her damndest to give them the universe and more, in whatever way she as a simple human being could.

****

It took only three days for Pete to come through for her. Rose had barely started worrying that nothing at all but good intentions would come from her desire to Doctor-ify this Christmas when Pete was calling her in for a private meeting and telling her that he had the beginnings of a plan. There was a small family of Shade who had crash-landed unexpectedly just north of Berwick-upon-Tweed on their way back from their vacation in the outer mists of Venus. The various Torchwoods had decided that the jurisdiction of this case belonged to Scotland, but now that Torchwood Three was done ascertaining the family was no threat to Earth the mission turned to fixing their ship and sending them home. And the easiest point to launch from was within the English boarder, allowing Pete to strike up a hush-hush deal with Director Knight that would allow Rose to manufacture her Christmas Day Emergency.

Finding and recruiting a few trustworthy people to help set the scheme up was easy; all of those closest to Rose and the Doctor would bend the world for the two of them, as they knew the two of them would do in return. A week after the suggestion had been given, there was a fully-developed plan at hand, with multiple small backup options just in case and several very enthusiastic Torchwood members helping out with the details of how, exactly, they would prevent anybody else from hearing about the ‘rescue’ that was needed, how the Shade would be kept safe at all times even when their children were ‘missing’ and ‘in danger of drowning’ and so on, and the special effects that would be needed to pull this all off to convince a mind as sharp as the Doctor’s.

While they planned in secret, called in favours with the most unlikely of people and joked about applying for backup jobs just in case this whole scheme was uncovered, Rose began her overt assault. The first hints she dropped about looking forward to a _spectacular_ Christmas were too light in the wake of the country gearing up for one of the most loved holidays in the world. So Rose tried even harder, dropping not-so-casual remarks about how she was _sure_ that this year’s Christmas was going to be unforgettable and world-changing. The first time she did so, the Doctor froze where he was drying the dishes and gave her such a strange but obviously stricken look that her heart broke for him a little more and her resolve to complete their slightly insane Fake Alien Rescue crystallised.

 She pretended not to notice the effect her words had on him, and dropped many more hints in the days that followed. The Doctor never again looked quite so troubled. By the time a week had passed, he was enthusiastically agreeing with her predictions for their Christmas, and even adding expectations of his own. More than once, Rose had to duck her head away or bury it in his shoulder to hide her smile of pure glee.

This was going to _work_.


	2. Chapter Two

Rose’s word-jumbled rendition of _Santa Baby_ was interrupted by a firm knock on the door, followed swiftly by the squeak of the handle turning. She glanced up briefly, caught sight of Pete, and grinned briefly before returning to the paperwork she was finishing.

“Hello. Don’t worry – the Doctor’s already home, so you can tell Mum to drop off Tony any time. I’ll be there as soon as I can finish this lot. They all write like madly thrashing worms at the best of times. Add in the fact that they all wanted to get home early today, and it’s a wonder I can make out anything at all.” She glanced up at Pete and saw the slightly apprehensive look on his face. “Oh, don’t worry: Tony’ll be fine with just the Doctor for a little while. The worst they’ve done is still that lawn ornament slash cat incident, and that was mostly accident. Could have happened to anybody.”

“Rose…” Pete had waited until her happy chattering petered out somewhat to speak, and even then he hesitated. “Rose, they just left.”

“Hmmm? Who did?” Rose squinted down at the page in front of her, trying to make out whether Jake had written that the victim had exploded with an outburst of emotion or simply blown up completely.

“The Shade.” _That_ caught her full attention; her suddenly wide eyes met her father’s regretful expression in an instant.

“No, but it’s only Christmas Eve! They were supposed to wait until tomorrow!” Panic raced spirals in her blood, the potency growing as the horror of how much had suddenly collapsed became clearer and clearer. “They agreed to the plan! I talked to them _personally_. _Twice_.”

“I’m very sorry, Rose.” He was, too. Even though this meant his job was no longer remotely in jeopardy. Even though he could now enjoy his Christmas without worrying. “We tried. Knight tried as well. Things just happened, and they had to leave right away…”

Rose took a deep breath, swallowed, and forced a smile. “It’s okay.” Pete gave her a look, and she shook her head. “No, really – it’ll be okay. It was… it was great…. Thank you, for helping me plan this. But… it obviously just wasn’t meant to be. It’s okay. It’s fine. I’ll contact everybody and let them know. Luckily I talked them all out of going too crazy for this, so it’ll just mean that they have a few extra favours to give and a bit more time on their hands on Christmas.”

Pete regarded her steadily. “Is there anything we can do?”

“It’s Christmas Eve, Dad.” Rose gave another half-smile and a shrug. “We tried. We really did. It just didn’t… it didn’t happen. I’ll think of something else to do for him. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” She glanced away, eyes flickering about the office and settled her gaze on the clock. “Now get gone. You and Mum’ll be late for your party tonight. I’ll see you when you come fetch Tony later.”

She tipped her cheek up to accept the kiss, squeezed her dad’s hand and watched him out the door. Then she slumped over her papers, head in her hands, and tried to fight the slightly overdramatic urge to cry.

“It’ll be okay,” she told the mess of paperwork being scrunched under her elbows. “It’s going to be fine.”

She repeated the words over and over again in the texts she sent those who had been involved in the scheme; typed them almost as many times as she did ‘thank you so very much’. But where she meant her thanks wholeheartedly, the assurance that things would still be wonderful still felt slightly hollow when she finally left Torchwood and headed home.

****

Rose’s first glance into her flat was one that landed on the Doctor and Tony sprawled languidly over the couch, eyes glued to the television and hands moving in a mechanical loop from their mouths to the popcorn buckets in front of them. The popcorn that had missed its intended target lay forlorn and forgotten on the floor around them, like rejected snowflakes against the dark carpet. Despite Pete’s news, Rose’s mouth twitched up into a fond smile.

“Wose is home!” Tony cried as the closing door drew their attention to her. He leapt from the couch, nearly upending his popcorn bucket, and flung himself at her legs.

“Hi, sweetheart.” She grinned and placed a kiss on the top of his unruly hair that had undoubtedly been neatly brushed when he’d been dropped off at their door. “What you up to, then?”

The Doctor gave her a grin and a mysterious wink, and her grin answered automatically even though she knew there was no adventure hiding behind her couch cushion as his expression suggested. The teasing buoyancy in his eyes made her remember the countless times she’d imagined his expression saving the Shade on Christmas day, and her stomach clenched a little again.

“We watched _The Polar Express_ ‘n had beans ‘n toast,” Tony explained, giving Rose her excuse to drop her gaze from the Doctor’s. “With _lots_ of cheese.”

“Don’t you know that movie backwards by now?” Rose laughed. “You’re not sick of it yet?”

“Nope.” Tony popped his P in a very Doctor-ish way, and Rose had to grin again, her insides warming. “We’s, um, we’s watching all the winter movies. For Chwistmas!”

“Great idea, sweets. Go on, then – you’re missing the movie standing here with me.”

Tony stayed attached to her legs, turning wide, pleading eyes up to her. He’d perfected his puppy face since the Doctor had been around, Rose noted with hidden mirth. “Mum said I could stay up a whole _hour_ past bed. The Docta said ‘til you got home. Can I stay up ‘til Mum gets back?”

Rose hesitated. Her mum and dad were strict about bedtimes, except on special occasions or near apocalypses. She knew they wouldn’t be too impressed if she let Tony stay up until eleven. But, that’s what very older sisters were for, wasn’t it – to spoil the kid behind the parents’ backs? And, besides, it was Christmas Eve.

“You can stay up until Mum and Dad get back _if_ you behave and _if_ you promise to go to bed if you feel very sleepy. Promise?”

“Pwomise! Thankie, Wose!” Tony squeezed her legs tight, then finally released her and raced back to the couch, hardly still before another hand of popcorn was shoved into his face. Rose shrugged off her jacket and scarf and was hanging them both up on the hooks behind the door when two warm arms curled around her waist. She melted into the embrace at once, turning so she could bury her face into the Doctor’s shoulder. He smelled of slightly burned toast, and regret curled in her insides once more.

She’d been _so close_ to giving him the Christmas he deserved…

“Hello.” The way his breath tickled down her neck made her shiver.

“Hello,” she replied, tipping her face up for a kiss.

The Doctor’s lips lingered longer than they usually did for a hello kiss, especially one with Tony in the vicinity, tracing her cheeks with his thumbs. Rose didn’t mind it being prolonged: there were few things better than being kissed by the Doctor.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured after he pulled away, still stroking her face as his eyes flickered between hers anxiously.

Rose swallowed and pulled a smile from somewhere in the universe and pasted it on her face, curling her hands around his as she did so. “Nothing to worry about,” she promised. And then, as inspiration suddenly struck, “It’s just work. I didn’t finish all of it, so I had to, um, bring some of it home. And it’s gotta be done by tomorrow.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve.” The Doctor pulled a face.

“I know. I do know.” She kissed his slightly pouting lip. “But I’ll make it as quick as I can, yeah? I promise.”

“Docta, Docta! You’wah missing the best pa’t!” Tony called, his indignation muffled by the amount of food in his mouth.

“Go on.” Rose nudged the Doctor toward her little brother, reaching for the strap of her bag as she did so. “Although, the number of times you’ve watched this you’re not missing _anything._ ”

“Proper appreciation takes time and repetition, Rose.” He looked her up and down with a gaze that burned through her clothes, and she felt herself begin to flush. “Besides,” suddenly he was playful again, winking at her as he flopped back onto the couch beside Tony. “I need to be able to quote things. _The Lion King_ wasn’t quite festive enough.” His grin was wide and buoyant.

Rose’s stomach dropped once more as she caught the reference. Just one more reminder how much she would fail to give him, this year. “Watch your movie. I’ll catch the beginning of the next one. And then your popcorn won’t be safe.” She thought she pulled off casual and teasing just right, but he looked at her and his smile slipped a little.

“As though you could take it from me,” the Doctor scoffed, rolling his eyes overdramatically, trying to save the mood he could feel was plummeting. “I have _ways_ , Rose Tyler. _Ways_.”

She swatted at him playfully, but he still gave her a slightly worried look as she made her way to the tiny storage room in the one-bedroom flat they’d turned into a study. Squeezing into the overfull room, Rose managed to flop down at the desk without hurting herself or upsetting the number of precariously stacked towers of _things_. It took her a minute to find a pad of paper and a pen in the mess, but once she won that particular battle the planning process ground to a halt.

She needed a plan to make the Doctor’s Christmas its usual kind of special. A plan she could pull off alone, with Christmas technically beginning in a little less than five hours. This was, she tried to reason, just another adventure with the Doctor – just another sticky situation they needed to get out of by using the most unlikely of tools. She stared at the blank paper, and it stared back mockingly.

Despite having saved London with nothing more than a can of soda and a handful of pepper, once, Rose was utterly stumped.

Her gaze turned to the minuscule window, watching how the streetlamps and Christmas lights outside created patterns of light across the glass. Eventually, she stared at the murky, distant reflection of herself in the glass, trying to psyche herself up for brilliance while in the distance an enthusiastic snowman sang of wanting summer with more hope in his impossibility than Rose had in hers. She was Rose Tyler. She was a lieutenant in Torchwood One, the daughter of the innovative and stubborn Tylers, the companion of the Doctor. The best friend of the Doctor. His lover. She was a world-saver.

From the fog of long ago memories she’d never completely been allowed to keep, stirred a reminder.

 _I am the Bad Wolf_.

Rose’s hand picked up the pen and she began to write. She wasn’t sure where she was going with this crazy plan; had no idea how the pieces would all fit together in the end. But the pieces were almost creating themselves – one after the other, even before the previous bit had finished being detailed out. Rose began her next quest to save the Doctor, spreading those two words as far as her fingers could reach. _Bad Wolf_ across a page, _Bad Wolf_ typed into every corner of a website she quickly created, _Bad Wolf_ written in code throughout maps, _Bad Wolf_ spelled with a train timetable…

The stack of papers and plans and maps and printouts grew larger, and Rose emptied an old paper file to stash her jigsaw pieces in. The final picture was still unclear, but she refused to worry that it would lead to nothing. She had no time to worry – she was almost sure that if she stopped, even for a moment, the wisp of inspiration she’d latched onto would dance out of her grasp. So she kept her head down and her hand flying, even when it began to hurt, and stubbornly blocked out the sounds of the world around her.

She wasn’t sure how long it took her to realise there _were_ no sounds in the world around her. The TV was silent. The Doctor and Tony were, too, which was usually an impossibility with the two of them. The realisation of abnormality finally penetrated Rose’s concentration and she paused, straining to hear any proof that the two of them were still awake and not attempting something ‘harmless, really, Rose,’ that would lead to disaster. She could only hear the faint ticking of her wristwatch. Glancing down at it, Rose noted with surprise that it was close to eleven PM. Her mum and dad must have come to pick Tony up, then, and the Doctor was saying hello to them. That was it.

Knowing that she’d never get away with not going out to greet her mother, Rose grudgingly admitted that it was time for a break. Shoving all her documents into the folder, she considered leaving it in the study and then thought better about it. Just in case. She’d leave it in the drawer with her summer shirts, right at the back and at the bottom where it was very unlikely the Doctor would go looking for anything.

However, it took one step into the hallway for her Torchwood-honed instincts to start telling her something was _wrong_. Tony’s movies still lay on the coffee table; he was always so very careful to never leave his things at other people’s houses. She glanced at the door to find the Doctor and Tony’s coats missing from the hooks. And to find the front door ajar. The silence was starting to raise goosebumps along her arms.

“Doctor? Tony?”

For a moment there was nothing but thick silence, then there came a slight whimpering sound that sounded very alarmingly like her little brother. Instinct kicked in and Rose leapt for the door, yanking it open even as she reached onto her belt for her stun gun. There were five short steps to the front door of the apartment complex, which was also hanging suspiciously ajar. Clasping her weapon firmly Rose crept to the front door, pausing to listen for any sign of movement outside. When she heard none she nudged the door open with her foot and took a cautious step outside.

Immediately, she was hit on the side of the head. With a snowball. Five more followed the first, striking her in the face and chest, making her stumble backwards and splutter and lose hold of the file in her hands. The snowfall that year had been sparse, and the white powder had already started turning to slush. As such, Rose’s face was left dripping mere seconds after she’d stepped outside.

“Wh-” she spluttered, spitting out snow.

“Got you!” Tony shrieked in delight, and a second later the Doctor’s delighted laughter rang across the front yard.

Rose gaped at the two of them, trying to work up outrage and failing at their shining, mischievous faces. She placed her gun back in its holster and tied up her hair. “You two,” she informed them dangerously, “are in _so much tro-_ “

The Doctor’s snowball hit her square on the mouth. Rose glared and launched herself at the ground, scooping snow even as she ran. Tony howled and sped away, but Rose was faster than him and pelted his back with close-range mini balls. The Doctor took her distraction as a chance to volley several large balls of mostly slush at her shirt, soaking the simple woollen sweater. Too fired up to feel the cold and wet yet, Rose focused her efforts in getting even with her boyfriend, managing to dump an entire handful of ice down his back and another in his hair.

Pretty soon consideration for the sleeping neighbours was forgotten, and the three of them started haggling, shrieking and laughing loudly as their war heated up. The yard was lit with streetlights and the impressive Christmas displays of the street as a whole, making visibility easy even at that hour. And that meant more snowballs met their mark.

“Uh oh!” Tony suddenly said, eyes wide and guilty.

Rose instantly looked at him and he squirmed and pointed to a puddle of near-water, illuminated by the shaft of hallway light that escaped through the door Rose had forgotten to close. At the bottom, completely sodden through, was Rose’s folder of Christmas plans. Her stomach and heart sank to the bottom of the sludge to rest beside it. She could swear she saw _Bad Wolf_ running into the off-white mess, the words twisting and sinking away, this time into the very earth.

“Oh, Rose…Were those… important?” the Doctor asked, eyebrows furrowing even as he dropped the snowball he’d recently been trying to shove down the front of her shirt.

Rose stared at the irreparable mess and simply turned back to him, stood on her toes and kissed him. Hard and full of disappointment and grief and regret and frustration but also full of that burning love she’d never known how to put into words. Everything she’d wanted to show him with the Christmas she’d planned – everything that was now out of her reach. She was hollow with her perceived failure, and aching to try and explain that she’d _tried_ , for him, she really had.

She kissed him like she had on that beach, equal parts elated and grieving, to welcome him and to claim him, in desperation and to convey that she was Rose Bloody Tyler and he was never leaving her again. She kissed him to force certainty that this was _enough_ into her doubting heart, and to pull comfort from the one person who could give it because a part of her believed she’d failed forever. The emotions were jagged edges that refused to make a complete puzzle in her chest, but the way he held her kept her together all the same. He kissed back; fire into her veins even as Tony made noises of disgust behind them.

“I love you,” Rose whispered to him, curling her hands over his chest where his one heart beat.  

“I love you too,” he replied easily, even though he searched her face in concern, trying to puzzle out the expression she couldn’t quite keep from her face.

Before she could make up an excuse or he could ask, they were flooded in headlights.

“Sh….oot! Mum and Dad! Run, run, run, run!”

Tony did as he was told, scarpering inside as Rose and the Doctor innocuously tried to look like they hadn’t let the five-year-old play in the snow at almost midnight. Neither of them seemed to have noticed Tony, as Jackie’s main gripe was how Rose getting sick because she was without coat, sopping wet in the snow was _no excuse_ to miss the party tomorrow. Tony was sprawled innocently on the couch in nothing but his clothes when they arrived upstairs, eyes tight and face angelic. But one close would reveal that he wasn’t really asleep, and when Jackie was able to wake him a lot easier than usual, her gaze returned to the Doctor and Rose with sudden suspicion. Feigning utter innocence, Rose and the Doctor stayed on their very best behaviour as they gathered Tony’s things, hugged and kissed him goodbye and followed the three Tylers outside to wave them off.

“Come on,” the Doctor said, suddenly holding his hand out to her. “You’re shivering like mad.”

She _was_ cold, she realised even as she took his hand. _Freezing_ and wet and shaking all over. She tried to tell him she needed to take off her shoes first so she didn’t make marks on the floor, but now that she’d acknowledged her cold her body decided to act on the knowledge and she couldn’t get the words past her chattering teeth. She was led to the bathroom and halted before the shower while the Doctor turned on the hot water, twisting the taps expertly until the temperature was just right.

And then, as steam began curling around the room, his hands found their way beneath her sodden jumper, pulling it slowly off her head. She stared at him as he threw the dripping mass in the basin and reached for her pants, toeing off her shoes as he began to unbuckle her Torchwood belt. Rose’s fingers, still shaking from cold, ran their way across the hem of his shirt, waiting until her belt was gone before she returned the favour of shirt removal. The hiss of the shower was the only sound in the room. Neither of them broke eye contact, saying a million things in their gaze as Rose’s shivering stopped being a reaction to the cold.

His fingers ran through her mattered hair as she reached for his jeans and started pushing him toward the warm spray. In that moment the hollowness in her filled to overflowing and _nothing_ at all could make her anything except bursting with happiness and love and completion and anticipation.


	3. Chapter Three

The deep, unknowing bliss of sleep was slowly pulled away by a nuzzling on Rose’s neck. She woke up slowly, which was her favourite way of greeting the new day. Even better than the slow awakening was what was causing it – the Doctor was trailing warm, slow kisses from her jaw to her shoulder and back. Rose kept still as his kisses turned longer and more sensual, refusing to open her eyes and surrender her warm, comfortable position under the thick duvet.

Two warm hands wormed their way under her pyjama top and traced patterns around her hips. “I know when you’re awake, Rose Tyler.”

She couldn’t help but grin at him, tongue poking through her teeth as she finally opened her eyes. He was close enough she could fully appreciate just how wildly enthusiastic his bedhead was. “Look at you, quoting Father Christmas,” she teased.

“Red bicycle when you were twelve,” he reminded her, all teeth and mischievous eye crinkles. “’Sides. I told you I’d be more Christmas-y in my quoting, this year. Speaking of…” He wormed closer, placing his weight across her like an extra blanket, and placed a big, sloppy kiss on her lips. “Merry Christmas, Rose.”

“Merry Christmas, Doctor,” she laughed, combing her fingers through the unruly mess on his head. Then she bit her lip and surged upright, upsetting him from his position. She rolled until he was on his back on the bed, straddling his hips with a smirk. “Want your first present, then?”

He gripped her hips again, harder this time, as she pulled up his shirt and began trailing teasing kisses at an agonisingly slow pace down his chest. She licked his naval as he passed it, earning her a noise that made her laugh into his stomach muscles. His grip became tighter as she slid down his legs and kissed lower, fingers trailing slowly down the path of her hipbones as she finally reached the waistband of his pants and –

The phone rang shrilly and both of them jerked in surprise. Rose huffed in annoyance when the Doctor let go of her with one hand to reach for the phone, but knew there were only two people who’d call at that hour of the morning on Christmas. And neither of them could be ignored if she wanted to avoid any nasty consequences of the Unstopped Alien Invasion or Angry Mum kind.

“Hello? Hi, Jackie. Merry Christmas to you, too! And to Pete, in the background. No, we’re both up.” Rose bit her lip to stop herself from laughing like a schoolgirl, especially at the _look_ the Doctor gave her when he said it. There was a pause. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Rose gave him a questioning look and he mouthed that Evalyn, one of the staff of the Tyler mansion who had elected to work on Christmas to get the party underway, was sick. “Early? Right, no, we’ll be there. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Got bananas? Uh-huh. Okay, bye Jackie. Bye Tony!” he yelled suddenly, and Rose couldn’t stop her giggle that time.

“Mum wants us over to help, then?”

“As soon as possible,” the Doctor grumbled. Then he looked at her and waggled his eyebrows. “Well, we could-”

“Nope.” Rose patted his stomach and moved away, even though a large part of her wanted to do the very opposite. “It’s _Christmas_. No half-arsed anything. And don’t you dare turn that into an innuendo.”

She shut the bathroom door on his laughter, even as she tried to detect any note of disappointment or sadness in it. They’d only been awake for ten minutes, and Christmas was _already_ going downhill. Rose wished for a sudden alien crisis of some kind, then felt bad as she remembered how many people an _actual_ invasion would inconvenience and possibly hurt.

“This is it,” she told her reflection firmly. “This is it, and you’d better make the best of it.”

The sound that told her the toilet was clogged – again – started behind her and she shut her eyes and sighed.

****

They made it to the Tyler mansion within an hour, dressed casually (the Doctor had one of the loudest Christmas sweaters Rose had ever seen, and she _adored_ him in it) with their smarter dinner clothes in hand. Rose carried both zipped hangars and the Doctor brought the shoes and her box of jewellery and makeup, as he’d made enough comments about him, tuxedos and bad luck for her to be mildly suspicious that the tux might go ‘missing’ on the way to the mansion if he was left in charge of it.

Despite their full hands, they were both greeted enthusiastically by first Tony and then Jackie as soon as they set foot in the doorway. The Doctor had no means of defending himself from Jackie’s Christmas kiss, and Rose couldn’t hide her laughter, even for his sake. Pete was slightly more restrained, and let the two of them hand their things over to be placed in the spare bedroom before wrapping first Rose and then the Doctor into a bear hug. The hug, unlike the kiss, was heartily returned.

“Opened presents yet?” Rose asked her brother, who was already on a Christmas cookie sugar rush.

“Noooooo. Mum said we had’t wait fow you. Huwy up, huwy up, let’s go!”

“Go finish packing away the mess you left in your room last night first,” Pete told him, sternly. “I told you – no clean room, no presents.”

Tony stopped bouncing and immediately sought some defence from his mom and his sister. When both of them just gave him pointed looks he pouted and marched toward the stairs.

“While that’s happening I have decorations to see to. You two, go check everything’s as it should be in the kitchen. And _you_.” She pointed a finger at the Doctor and glared. “Don’t you _dare lick anything_.”

She turned before she could catch the Doctor’s affronted look. Rose grinned, slipped her hand into his, and pulled him toward the kitchen. Inside was empty of people but cramped with food. Naturally, the first station Rose and the Doctor gravitated towards was the one that held the five large, decadent looking puddings.  

“She told us to make sure,” Rose said solemnly. “So we’d be shirking duties if we didn’t at least try one.” She dipped her finger in the mousse of the closest pudding and licked off the chocolaty goodness.

“Poison?” the Doctor asked, just as seriously.

“Can’t be sure. You’ll have to taste, too.” Rose’s tongue poked between her teeth again as the Doctor dipped his finger in the pudding. “Taste all right, Mr Advanced Biology?”

“Not enough sugar.” He shook his head, sadly.

Rose tisked at him, dipped her finger into the pudding and smeared the brown mass over his jaw before he could jerk away. A moment later she was laughing and backing away from his advancing, mousse-covered index finger, licking the remains of her chocolate attack of her hand. He chased her around the precariously stacked kitchen until he cornered her between the salads and the sink, taking his time to saunter up to her and smear the chocolate along her nose and lips. Before she could wipe it away he kissed it off, starting on her nose and heading to her lips where he lingered long enough for both of them to let their hands start to wander.

The kitchen door opened, there was a surprised squeak and the door slammed again just as the Doctor and Rose guiltily looked around. Hoping it wasn’t young Laura, who had been unfortunate enough to walk in on them in a much more compromising moment during Rose’s birthday party, the two of them moved away from each other, flushed and slightly rumpled.

“Right. I’ll check the salads are complete and whatnot, and you make sure the meat is defrosting okay.”

The Doctor moved off obediently and Rose poked around the salads, not sure what she was looking for. Everything seemed green and fresh and mixed well, so with a shrug she covered the last salad and looked over in time to see the Doctor pick up a large block of ice from the turkey and shove it in the bin. Duty done, the two returned to the pudding to erase any trace of their tasting and then meandered out to the sitting room. The tree had gained a few extra decorations since they’d last been over, and by now the poor thing was positively bent under the weight. Jackie was already inside, brandishing a list at two stalwart women already dressed in crisp black.

“Food’s going well,” Rose announced as the two were dismissed.

“Clean!” Tony yelled, scarpering through the door.

“Did your dad check it?” Jackie asked, suspiciously.

Tony shook his head. “He’s on the call.”

“I don’t know how he got ‘on the phone’ and ‘on call’ mixed up, but it’s become his favourite phrase and we can’t get him to change it,” Jackie huffed fondly, finally folding her list. She squinted. “Rose, sweetheart, you have something on your nose.”

Rose rubbed it away hurriedly while the Doctor’s grin made him look as guilty as could be. Luckily, Jackie was scolding Tony away from the presents and didn’t notice. Tony whined that he wanted to open them and play with his toys until the party, and Rose suddenly got a funny feeling in her stomach. They’d open presents, run around with Jackie, sit through a party none of them were particularly invested in, help clear up, go home and fall asleep. That’s what she’d brought the Doctor to – monotony. No time to sit and play with new toys, like Tony was squirming in impatience to do. No time to themselves, even. Just work and entertaining and work and sleep. Christmas over in the blink of an eye. The only redeeming quality would be her family around her.

Rose felt cold; suddenly doubtful that the mental wonder, awe and anticipation that surrounded Christmas was just one big farce. What was the point of it all? The day would gallop away from them before anything really happened – just another collection of hours that would never be very memorable.

Even as her stomach roiled, Pete walked through the door, arms folded and face passive. Jackie took one look and immediately stiffened. “Don’t give me that, Peter Tyler,” she warned, even though she knew it was pointless.

“Torchwood?” Rose asked immediately, heartbeat kicking up a notch at once. Could it be? Could there possibly be….?

“Trouble,” Pete said grimly. “We got a call about a recently built warehouse downtown. It’s still empty, but that makes it the perfect place for any being to set up shop. There’s considerable evidence of technology at work in there, and it needs to be checked out ASAP. Since nobody’s technically on duty, the decision was given to me as the Director on what to do and I-”

“I’ll go,” Rose interrupted a little too quickly. Eyes jumped to her at once, but she kept from squirming, looking her dad in the eyes and begging him mentally to understand. “Mum needs you here, and I don’t have much of an important job to do and I won’t ask anybody else to leave their Christmas.”

“You can’t go without backup,” Pete said, firmly.

“I’ll go with her,” the Doctor volunteered, squeezing her hand. “Consultant counts, right? We can sort it out, Rose and me.”

Heart pounding, veins singing with hope, Rose put all of her pleading into the gaze she shot her father. He looked at her for a moment, then looked to her mother, who was already on a tirade of protest about parties and Christmas and presents, before glancing back to Rose again. He _had_ to say yes. This was beyond perfect. This was what she’d been planning for – her and the Doctor against an adventure. The Doctor hadn’t even needed any pleading, and the warehouse was less than forty minutes away…

“All right,” he said eventually, and Rose wanted to air-punch and hug her dad as tight as she could. “You two are officially on the job. Rose, take my belt so you don’t have to go home and fetch yours. I want updates as soon as possible. And, Doctor, remember your clearance level.”

“But presents!” Tony wailed forlornly.

“It’s all right, sweetie. You guys go ahead and open them and you can watch us when we get back, yeah?” Rose kissed his forehead. “Then it’ll be like two Christmases.”

Jackie continued to grumble, but not even her mother being upset could dampen Rose’s elated mood. Some Christmas angel had deposited a small miracle into her lap and things were going to be _all right_. She rushed up the stairs to grab Pete’s belt, snapping it on even as she hurried down the stairs, glad she didn’t have to change from what she was currently wearing. The Doctor pulled up in her car, grin so wide and eyes so bright that her heart soared. This was right. This was what had been missing. This would make it memorable, even amongst all the other days he’d had.

“All aboard the Polar Express!” he crowed out the window.

“Was that exact line even in the movie?” She hopped in and grinned at him, breathless and buzzing. “Cheater!”

“How about one I know is right?” They met eyes and their grins stretched impossibly wide, feeding off each other’s elation and anticipation. “Allons-y!”

He drove like a fiend, breaking traffic laws left, right and centre as he somehow managed to keep the car intact, and Rose laughed the whole way. It was almost as though they were drunk off each other; excited already by the prospect of adventure and trouble together (Rose Tyler and the Doctor, just as it should be) they tipped into the realm of near-inebriation at the obvious, complete joy the other was feeling about the moment. And they weren’t going to stop firing each other up any time soon.

The Doctor drove right past the warehouse, and they had to reverse and park at an awkward angle, squeezing out so as to not hit the doors against walls or dustbins. The Doctor bounced on the balls of his feet in front of the door, beaming as Rose caught up with him. She drew her father’s stungun, checked the settings, and grinned right back at him. Now the adrenalin was kicking in to add to the mixpot of emotions swirling in her gut, and she was beginning to feel like she might start giggling inappropriately at any minute and just not stop. She tried to remind herself that this was still a Torchwood job, and that she was technically on duty, but the Doctor’s hands were on her waist and he was whispering predictions of what alien it could be and what it could want, and there was no way for her to force sobriety on herself.

“Right. Let’s see what’s in the warehouse, shall we?”

She’d been prepared to force the door open, but one pull on the handle found it unlocked. Cautiously, she eased open the door and took a step inside. The warehouse was murky – the few windows it had were mostly covered with something or too far away to shed much light. The Doctor found a switch that did nothing when flicked, and Rose pulled out a flashlight and her phone. Handing the latter to the Doctor and telling him to use its built in torch, Rose flicked her own on and let the beam travel slowly around the warehouse. Pete had been wrong: there were giant crates all along the floor, stacked haphazardly so the walking space was a maze between the giant wooden boxes.

“Do you think this is alien stuff?” Rose murmured to the Doctor, lighting up the nearest crate and searching for any identification.

“Don’t think so.” The Doctor illuminated another crate, fingered his pocket and grimaced. “Sonic doesn’t work on wood,” he muttered, petulant.

“That sonic doesn’t work on much, yet,” Rose grinned.

“Oi, don’t be _rude_ about our baby, Rose Tyler.”

She giggled at his expression then forced her attention back to the crooked pathway between the crates. “Okay, then. Let’s go find our trouble.”

They started down the gap, carefully illuminating their way and taking care to be extra quiet. Nothing seemed to stir inside the warehouse, and Rose almost wished for the snarling or annoyingly confident type of foe. At least then she knew where they were. The pathway forked suddenly, and the Doctor murmured that he’d take the left. Rose nodded, gave him a quick kiss and then watched him lope off. Even his _walk_ was happy, confident and satisfied. Her heart swelled again as she turned down her own pathway.

It twisted and turned ridiculously, forcing her to squeeze past crates more than once. Just when she was sure it would lead to nothing, there was a sudden scuffling noise in front of her. Rose stilled and raised both the flashlight and her gun, eyes training on the gap in a stack of crates that appeared to be the hiding place of whatever they’d been called in to find. When the scuffling grew louder and more agitated, and whispering was added to the mix she took a firm step forward, finger on the trigger.

As the light began to creep over the sides of the alcove, two shapes burst from the hole and rushed at her. Rose took a breath and fired, but her shot missed as the shapes split down the middle. They barrelled into her, knocking her flat and causing her weapon to skid across the floor. She dove for it and sent a blind shot after the running aliens, but hit only crate. There was the sound of cracking wood and retreating steps and then silence again. Rose swore, softly, and reached for her communicator automatically to call in the update that there were _four_ aliens, not one, and that they seemed to all be knee-height with a series of tentacles of some sort. Tentacles were always bad news – most of the time they were poisonous, and that was the last thing they needed. She swore again when she realised the Doctor didn’t have a Torchwood communicator, and that he also had her phone.

“Brilliant, Rose. Well done.”

Rose rolled to her feet, gripped her flashlight securely, and began jogging after her adversaries. She caught sight of them easily, but even as she raised her gun they ducked around a corner and she was forced to give chase again. Around the next bend, she managed to see a tentacle slithering around the corner. She picked up her pace, but was still only able to catch a glimpse of them before they disappeared. In fact, no matter what Rose did they always seemed to be one step ahead of her. No matter how fast she ran or how stealthy she was, they were always just out of reach or just disappearing from sight. They led her on a pretty dance, too; slithering around the crate maze until Rose was well and truly lost.

Frustration and irritation built, and finally she threw caution to the wind and hollered for the Doctor. If they could just trap the buggers between them… But no answer came, and Rose tried not to be suddenly afraid. The joviality of the adventure had long since worn off, and she was starting to see what a fool she’d been not to take this seriously. How long had they been there? Much, much longer than she’d intended to be, that was for sure. Her phone was her source of time, and the Doctor had it. Where was he? Why hadn’t they run into each other yet? And how the devil were these aliens so damn _fast_?

Finally, Rose ground to a stop and, teeth gritted, realised she was going about it the wrong way. She had to _think_. That’s what the Doctor was probably doing right then – _thinking_ their way out of this rat race. She shone her flashlight to the ceiling, trying to see if there were any crates she could climb onto to use as a lookout. Then, perhaps, she’d be able to sneak up on the sneaky little things. She found no stack to climb but did spot what looked to be a lookout room; a square concrete mass built into the south wall that overlooked the whole warehouse. And, unless she was mistaken, there were floodlights on it. Maybe they would work, even though the main lights seemed to be broken.

It actually didn’t take her long at all to find her way to the room’s ladder, and she holstered her gun but kept her torch in her teeth as she climbed. Reaching the platform outside the door she bent down to check if it was locked and froze. There was a voice inside. The gun came out instantly, and Rose braced herself for a moment before turning the handle and bursting into the room.

“Torchwood!” she announced loudly, as the alien her beam illuminated leapt about a foot in the air in fright.

It turned around instantly and raised its hands in a very human gesture of surrender, squeaking in fright. Its eyes were large and glassy, but they trained on her as its fingers shook. A split second later, Rose realised those weren’t its eyes at all, but a pair of goggles. Night vision goggles, to be exact. A moment later, she lowered her gun in disbelief.

“ _Jexka_?”

“Aha… Hello, Lef… Um… Merry Christmas?”

“Jexka, what are you _doing_ here?” Rose holstered her gun as the alien she’d met on several occasions during his work with Torchwood meekly removed his goggles.

“Well, um, you see…”

“This is _your_ operation?” Rose was incredulous; of all the beings she knew, he was one of the last she’d expect to heist a warehouse for suspicious looking crates.

“Uh… well…” the alien stuttered, looking incredibly upset and nervous. “You see…”

“ _Dad,_ ” came a crackling voice, and Rose instinctively followed the sound to find a walkie-talkie on the desk. “ _Dad, we can’t see her any more. She hasn’t been behind us for a while and-_ “

Jexka hastily switched the walkie-talkie off, waving his arms in a gesture Rose knew to be distress for his species. A penny dropped.

“Those are your children down there,” she said slowly. “And you were… you were telling them when I was coming, so they could get away in time.” She shook her head as Jexka mumbled and fretted. “Why? I don’t… Wait. Jexka, are you being _made_ to do this?”

“N-no… I’m… um… we’re…”

But Rose knew him well enough to identify the lie in his hesitation and hand movements. “You _are_. You’re being _made_ to do this by somebody. Listen – we can help you. Torchwood. Or if you don’t trust the organisation, trust _me_. Just tell me what’s going on. Tell me who’s threating you.”

“Lieutenant, I… I can assure you…”

Both of them froze at the sound of footsteps on the platform outside. Footsteps far too heavy to belong to Jexka’s children. She took one look at his face and knew that the person in charge was standing outside. Ignoring his alarmed noises, Rose drew her gun and marched firmly to the door, waiting until it swung open.

“Freeze,” she commanded fiercely, fury that anybody could use somebody as wonderful and sweet as Jexka and his _children_ to do their bidding making her words hard.

The person froze obediently, and she shone the torch over their face. Her stomach dropped to the floor, and she nearly followed it.

It was the Doctor.

 


	4. Chapter Four

Rose braced her elbows against the steering wheel of the car and watched Jexka bundle his family into their sedan and drive away. This took some time, as none of them wanted to remove the elaborate, tentacle-ridden costumes they’d been allowed to wear for their part in the little performance, and manoeuvrability in them was difficult. There was also, Rose understood, some disappointment from the youngest that their game couldn’t continue for a while longer than they’d been promised. Jexka eventually had to promise what Rose assumed was a sort of sweet to get her to stop pouting and insisting they all return to the maze.

She wished the tension inside the car – so thick she was sure she’d have to hack at it with a chainsaw – could be fixed with the promise of sweets. It hadn’t taken her long to understand that everything from the crates to the outfits to the elaborate alien family escape plan that would never have its chance to shine had been the Doctor’s creation. A play more elaborate than the one with the Shade she’d tried to create.

While it hurt a little that he’d lied to her, Rose knew there had been no malicious intent behind it. That, coupled with the fact that she’d had _two_ plans to try and accomplish the exact thing he had tried to accomplish, meant that the feeling of lead in her stomach had nothing to do with anger. Instead, she stared at the empty street and tried to make herself less aware of how frozen the Doctor sat beside her because of the same emotions she’d been feeling since the previous afternoon. Guilt. Disappointment. Shame. The aching type of love.

He’d been so desperate to not have a normal Christmas that he’d gone out of his way to plan an adventure for himself. One he hadn’t been able to fully participate in. He’d honestly felt he’d had to go that far. And she hadn’t even been granted an opportunity to play along, for his sake. She’d ruined her plans and ruined his, and now they were sitting in her car, utterly miserable and hurting, an hour away from when they had to be back to play hosts for Jackie’s party.

Her mother and father had both left several missed calls on her phone, both worried about her and the amount of time she was taking on the mission. Rose told Pete that the aliens had gotten away after a lengthy chase, described the aliens she’d thought she’d seen in the dark before they’d been revealed as costumes, and proclaimed the crates empty and the alien technology gone. It had felt strange lying to her dad while the Doctor stood, stiff and silent as a board, too far away for her to see or touch. As though something she’d always taken for granted had shifted out of its place, and the mechanics of her world were sticking and malfunctioning because of it.

She ran her fingers down her face and felt the Doctor stiffen at the first movement she’d made in a long while. They hadn’t spoken – not a word – since she’d found it was him outside the door and Jexka had haltingly spilled the whole plan. More distressingly, they hadn’t touched since then. No reassuring brushes. No hair stroking. No nudging. Absolutely no hand holding. Not even their eyes had met since Rose had first looked away from the emotions that had burned her up there in that lookout room. The distance was driving Rose insane, and she knew she couldn’t let it fester. But how on earth could she apologise for all of this?

“Doctor,” she started heavily, at the same time he said “Rose”.

They locked eyes for the first time in a while, and Rose took a shaky breath at how awkward it was between them. They weren’t _this_. She didn’t know how to deal with _this_.

“Just… let me…” She didn’t know how to go on, but he clenched his jaw slightly and nodded, so she took another deep breath and jumped right in. “I… I… This whole thing… I’m so _sorry_ , Doctor.”  He opened his mouth, undoubtedly to tell her not to apologise, so she steamrolled right over him. She _had_ to say this. “I’m so sorry it came to this. That you thought you had to do this, to make Christmas special. I’m… I’m sorry this year isn’t another great big adventure. I… I tried, too, you know. I got Dad and a whole lot of Torchwood close friends to help me plan this elaborate mission to save a group of Shade but then they _left_ a day early, and my next attempt at a mystery landed in the puddle in that snowball fight and I…” She shut her eyes. “I’m sorry this is the first Christmas you’re without saving a world or something. I… I know you don’t need it, but I wanted you to have it anyway. And… I kinda helped in mucking it up. I’m sorry.”

There was a beat of silence that made Rose’s heart leap in genuine fear. What if she was wrong? What if he _did_ blame her? What if –

“Rose Marion Tyler.” There was such incredulity in his voice that she had to open her eyes and look at him. He was gaping at her, much like a fish out of water. “You thought… you tried… for _me_? Rose.” His hands were across her face and in her hair, his body suddenly trying to mould into hers despite the gearshift in between them. “ _Rose_. I thought _you_ were disappointed you weren’t getting an adventure. When you started dropping those hints… I was so scared you’d think I couldn’t give you… Rose, I did this for you.”

Her heart was doing a funny sort of painful hop. “For _me_?” she spluttered, unable to let the notion and realty connect.

The Doctor laughed, brightness returning to his eyes. The sight made Rose relax in relief. “Rose Tyler.” There was love in his voice and on his face and in his hands. “I _love_ you. I don’t need to save the world to have a great Christmas with you. This life with you is not a consolation prize, Rose.” He pulled a rueful face. “For either of us. I forgot that last bit,” he admitted. “I just… I wanted to make you…”

“Truly happy. Complete. Feel like you weren’t missing anything. Give you another memory to add to the exciting, wonderful, breath-taking heroics you already have,” she finished for him.

They looked at each other, and then both burst out laughing. Relief made the hilarity of the situation so much clearer. Somewhere between the third and fourth wave of helpless hilarity, their fingers found each other and curled into a familiar, heart-warming position. He kissed her while they were both still giggling, their vibrating lips moving over each other even as she made her return kiss fierce. They apologised again, this time for their assumptions, and made a promise that something like this would never happen again.

“So…” Rose grinned at him cheekily. “How _is_ your Christmas? Now that we’ve missed present opening, and hanging out with Tony, and stealing food early, and making out in the closet, and generally doing everything Christmas-y we could before we’d be forced to be polite and hospitable for Mum’s guests?”

He grinned ruefully. “Well, when you put it like that…” He laughed. “You’re just as rubbish at this domestic thing as me!”

“Oi!” She swatted at him. “It’s only ‘cause you messed me up with your… alien… mind…thingies…”

“I mess you up, do I?” His tongue curled as he grinned.

He climbed over the gearshift and knelt on the driver’s seat, pressing her against the window as he kissed her and tried not to fall off due the way he was awkwardly perched. She shimmied to try and stop the door handle digging into her back, and only the inhalation he made let her realise how they were positioned. She grinned against his mouth and shimmied again, this time slowly and deliberately. Her hands weren’t bracing her body against the car door, leaving them free to wander. And this time, unlike that morning, she didn’t start out chaste.

But like that morning, her efforts were interrupted with a ringing phone.

“Oh, for the love-! It’s Mum – she’s the only one it rings Cliff Richard for.” She bit her lip, looked at him slyly, and continued her trajectory. “We could ignore it…?”

He made a noise of assent and began kissing at her neck, causing her to shiver and giggle and wish they were on the back seat. Somewhere that let him come _closer_ so-

The phone stopped ringing, only to start up again a moment later. Both of them sighed, and Rose began fishing in his pockets for the phone, even as he began toying with the buckle of Pete’s Torchwood belt suggestively.

“Hi, Mum. No, we just finished. Uh-huh, everything’s sorted out.” She tried not to inhale or moan at where the Doctor’s hands suddenly were. “What? What do you mean? Didn’t you get one? Okay, so then how-?” Rose’s eyes suddenly widened, and she looked at the Doctor in dawning horror. His eyes widened too in response, and he was suddenly still and much more behaved. “Okay, okay. Mum? Calm down. We’ll go past the shop on the way back. We’ll have tim- We’ll have time, I promise. We’ll find one. It’ll cook, okay? Okay. Okay. Okay. See you.”

She hung up the phone and met the Doctor’s questioning look with a lip-biting of her own. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. “Mum’s in a state, because the Fake Mistletoe is missing out the turkey. It’s a brand of special stuffing, in this world. All sorts of great flavours. Except it comes frozen, and before it thaws it looks like a glob of iced mess.” Realization dawned on the Doctor’s face. Rose tried to choke down a laugh. “You threw it out, didn’t you?”

“Oops?” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I, um…”

“This just proves I’m better at domestic than you.” He opened his mouth to object, but she pushed him playfully into his seat before he could. “Strap in. We’re gonna have to go fast.”

Rose drove almost as fiend-like as the Doctor had, but avoided ramping the pavement or making too many people hoot at her in exasperation. This was quite a feat, as one of her hands was entwined firmly with the Doctor’s the whole way. This time they blared the radio, singing tunelessly along to the Christmas carols that cheerfully sounded from the speakers. She pulled them with the faintest of screeches into an empty parking lot, and both of them leapt out, fully intent on their mission.

“Technically, we’re saving the world from your mum,” the Doctor grinned, and she didn’t even bother to swat at him.

“Rose and the Doctor and the Case of the Missing Mistletoe,” Rose grinned as the doors opened. “Or, more accurately, the carelessly tossed aside Mistletoe.”

“If I’d been allowed to lick it,” the Doctor started with a sniff, and Rose just laughed and kissed him before pulling him to the shelf that proclaimed it stocked the sought-after item.

It was empty. They stared at it, looked at each other, and swore.

“Um, excuse me?” They both spun to stare at the slightly timid shop assistant. “There’s… I think there’s two or three in the back. Orders that people made but didn’t pick up. Talk to the floor manager, Erik. He’ll be able to help.”

“Thank you… Jeffry! Lovely spelling of your name! Merry Christmas!”

They took off toward Customer Services, but found that empty as well.

“Right,” Rose said grimly. “You take the east side of the store, I’ll take the west, and we’ll see who finds Erik first, yeah?”

“Ma’am, yes, Ma’am,” he grinned, and earned a playful shove for his cheek.

Rose jogged over to the furthest isle, and then began her trip up again, eyes open for anybody wearing the silver and blue uniform of the store. Her heart leapt every time she saw somebody dressed in it, but the poor soul she’d thundered down upon just kept saying they weren’t Erik. Eventually, she was told to look for a gold nameplate that was the sign of privilege of the floor manager. None of the nameplates she squinted at as she hurried past, however, were gold. Rose was just about to give it all up and hope the Doctor had saved the day, again, when the hint of silver and blue in the fruit and vegetable isle caught her eye. She squinted, saw the rectangle of gold on his chest, and broke into a dead run.

Suddenly, the Doctor appeared out of an isle to her left, also at a dead run. They caught eyes, grinned madly at each other, joined hands and floored it toward Erik. The poor boy looked up at the sound of their footsteps, and was so startled at their mad approach and shouts of his name that he nearly dropped the cucumber he’d been inspected.

“Erik! Hello, Erik!”

“We need a Fake Mistletoe. Gregory-”

“Jeffry.”

“Jeffry told us you’d have some spares in the back. We’re willing to pay extra, we just really, really need that Mistletoe.”

“Saving the world from danger, and all,” the Doctor added, so seriously, Erik backed up a step.

“I’ll… go… fetch one…” he mumbled, alarmed, before zooting off to the back.

“Cheers! Merry Christmas!” the Doctor hollered after him, happily.

Standing in the queue to pay for the frozen mass clutched safely in the Doctor’s hands, Rose couldn’t stop grinning. Neither, it seemed, could the Doctor. They caught each other’s eye and laughed, hands entwined and hearts singing.

“We got our adventure, after all. Looks like life knows just what the two of us need.”

“Next year, it’ll be the missing star from the top of the Christmas tree,” Rose predicted.

“I bet you ten quid it’s another food item.”

“You are so on.”

He tisked. “Betting a superior Time Lord? Not smart, love.”

“ _Please_. Remember how easily I took that ten from you with Queen Victoria? You’re going _down_ , Mr Superior.” She poked him. “And no interfering to make your prediction true! In any way!”

“I would _never_ ,” he returned, affronted. “You promise the same!”

They were just gobbing into their hands to do a spit shake when they reached the front of the line. The cashier refused to fully touch the money she was handed.

****

They got back in the nick of time, saved the turkey, managed to convince a slightly irate Jackie that the science set they’d given Tony for Christmas was _completely_ harmless (and made Tony promise to be safe with it and not mention the Doctor’s additions to the pre-bought pack), get dolled up and still be in time to greet the first guests. The party ended up going without a hitch, even though the Mistletoe was a little undercooked and the Doctor and Rose got in trouble for disappearing for half an hour.

“But you haven’t opened presents yet,” Tony said forlornly as they tucked him in.

Rose and the Doctor shared a guilty look. “We’ll let you know how much we love them tomorrow, yeah? Love you, sweetheart.” Rose tucked him in, kissed him goodnight, and shut the door before giving the Doctor a rueful look. “Trust us to miss out on the best parts of Christmas because we were trying to make it better.”

“Still have you,” the Doctor said, wrapping an arm around her. “And that’s the _very_ best.”

They opened each other’s presents as soon as they got home, both utterly delighted by the other’s gift but too exhausted to really show it, and barely made it into their pyjamas before crashing, snuggling around each other haphazardly. Rose still wanted to talk to the Doctor about Special Agent Ahern’s traveling mission he’d spoken to them about, but her eyelids were so heavy, and sleep was just so inviting…

She was pulled from sleep by something nuzzling her neck. Cracking open a bleary eye, she sought out the glowing alarm clock. 00:01. She sighed and the Doctor stopped kissing her so he could press his lips to her ear.

“Do you wanna build a snoooowmaaan?”

“I am _never_ , _ever_ letting you watch another movie ever again,” she grumped, shoving her face into the pillow.

“But, _Rose_ ,” he said, tickling her back. “It’s Christmas!”

“Boxing Day,” she mumbled.

“Christmas,” he insisted.

“It’s past midnight.”

“I know,” he said, patiently. The tickling turned to stroking from the base of her neck to her lower back and up again. “Christmas.”

She frowned and slowly rolled to face him. He was beaming and positively squirming in excitement and smugness. “What?” she asked, eloquently.

“I’m still part Time Lord, Rose Tyler. Power over _time_? If I want to go back one day and give the love of my life the Christmas she missed out on, I can.”

She stared at him, trying to see if he was pulling her leg. He just grinned at her. So she reached for her phone, and glanced at the time and date. 00:03. 26 December. She squinted back at him, and felt his grin infecting her. “So… Second Christmas?”

“Exactly!” he enthused, kissing her joyfully on the lips. “Merry Christmas, Rose!”

“Merry Christmas, Doctor.” Rose flung herself on him and kissed him everywhere she could, giggling at his delighted laughter. “Doctor?”

“Mmmm?”

“First one outside gets to make the face.”

She shoved a pillow in his face as she leapt off the bed, his indignant squawking following her as she laughed and dove into the closet for proper clothes. He caught her at the door, holding onto her middle and swinging her around so he was first, sprinting down the stairs with a triumphant cry. Rose tackled him as he reached the bottom, and they went sprawling into the snow together, laughing helplessly.

“Oh, bloody hell! Not two nights in a row!” a voice hollered from a window behind them.

Rose bit her lip, then placed a gloved hand over the Doctor’s mouth to muffle his laughter. “Sorry,” she whispered, trying not to dissolve into helpless giggles.

The Doctor rolled her over and tried to shove snow down her front, but Rose was quicker and he got a mouthful of slush. Their snowball fight was furious but silent, the promise of a snowman forgotten until Rose stole his scarf as a trophy and made him chase her around the garden to claim it back. He caught her again, but this time just held her close and didn’t let go.

“What are we doing for a Christmas feast?” she teased as she returned with a carrot for the nose.

He grinned at her and tapped his nose. “Big old roast with family, of course. Wouldn’t be Christmas without that.”

“You’ve already planned all this, haven’t you?” She shook her head at him in wonder. “I love you, you know that?”

He looked at her, suddenly serious and very old. “I never, ever, ever will forget it,” he promised, and she felt the shiver down to her toes.

****

They arrived, dressed to the nines and carrying presents, just after ten. Jackie was the one to open the door, and she shook her head at their enthusiastic Christmas greetings.

“You’re completely daft,” she sighed, before letting them in.

“Happy Chwistmas!” Tony yelled, launching himself on them. He hugged them quickly, then turned to his parents. “Can we do presents quick, befowa the aliens come again?” he asked seriously.

Jackie had to laugh. “All right, sweetheart, let’s go do presents.

They collected around the tree, wearing Santa hats and enduring Jackie taking endless snaps on her camera. Rose was handed the first gift, and she tore open the wrapper excitedly.

“Oh! The socks I put in the wash three days ago! Doctor, how did you _know_?”

Pete opened the next present, and grinned as he pulled out a tie. “My favourite tie from my very own closet! Rose, sweetie, you shouldn’t have!”

“Completely bleeding mad, the whole lot of you,” Jackie muttered, as Rose was kissed in thanks.

Tony received his own half-used tube of toothpaste, the Doctor got the right shoe of his favourite pair of Converse and Jackie got handed her half-drunk cup of tea from earlier in the morning. Then she dropped a sodden mess onto the Doctor’s lap, and watched with raised eyebrows as he unwrapped it. It was a melted, slightly rotten Fake Mistletoe.

“I found it in my rubbish bin,” she said, dangerously.

The Doctor gave her a thousand-watt grin and jumped up to give her a great big smack on the lips. “Merry Second Christmas, Jackie!”

“Completely daft,” she said again, but she was grinning.

Jake Simmonds and a whole slew of other Torchwood friends arrived around noon as a surprise for Rose. Unlike the guests from the day before, these people were almost-family enough to lounge around, help themselves, and join in in playing Firehouse with Tony, the Doctor and Rose. Cooper made the best fire engine noises, after all.

Lunch consisted of leftovers from the party, and anything the guests had brought from their own Christmas feasts. There were bets, threats and deals made over the most popular dishes and by the end of the meal Rose was owed three free paperwork sessions, half an off day and a couple of drinks. She was just settling the terms of the off day with Captain Schex when she felt something dripping on her head. Glancing up, she found the mess of Fake Mistletoe being held above her head.

“It’s not real mistletoe,” she laughed, turning to face the grinning Doctor.

“It’s got the word in its name – good enough.”

He tossed the plant, grabbed her and dipped her into a kiss. When they came up for air she simply snuggled into him, watching Jake being taught how to fly Tony’s toy airplane, three people having a game with the corks from the wine and her parents slow dancing to a Christmas carol. Her grin hurt her face.

“Best Second Christmas _ever_ ,” she said solemnly.

His laugh rumbled against her chest. “One of the best Christmases ever,” he promised, resting his forehead against hers. And then he frowned slightly. “You do realise next year’s going to be a disaster? Unless something _really big_ happens, we’ll just spend the whole time talking about ‘last Christmas’.”

Her eyes grew as teasing as his. “We’ll have to start planning immediately. Don’t forget, we’re either saving the Christmas star or some item of food again, next year.”

“It’ll take all year to plan,” the Doctor said, ruefully.

“Lucky there’s two of us, then, yeah? Better with two.”

“Always better with two.” His hand slipped into hers like a promise, and she gripped back with her answer. “And we have a long time to get it right if next year bombs.”

“Forever,” she agreed, the word catching in her throat.

“Forever.”

He wrapped his arms around her and led her to where the music could be heard, twirling her in a dance that made her head spin and the watching Torchwood guests start to join in. And she’d never seen the Doctor happier than in that moment. If he _could_ be happier, however, she was surely going to be the one to figure out how to make him that way.

In time. They had time.

 

_“Make my wish come true_

_All I want for Christmas is you.”_

 


End file.
